All of the Night
by drummore
Summary: I still like Flack and Angell, and I still don't like what CBS did to them...
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:_

_i) I thought the season finale was a pretty lousy outcome but since I'm a stickler for the rules, I previously went along with what the good people at CBS thought best._

_ii) Flack crying and Angell being disposed of quite so cruelly bugged me though, so, given that they are fictional people and live in a fictional universe, I decided I could play with them a little bit more._

_iii) My thinking is that the final chapter of my previous 'Fan Fiction' effort, along with say the last forty minutes of 'Pay Up', could be replaced with this...how well it works, if at all, is up to you..._

_iv) As alway, the usual suspects apply; I don't own anything, I'm not a writer, I'm using Flack and Angell for my personal entertainment while I'm bored/need a break from the actual task in hand/awake at 4am, songs are all owned on my MP3 player etc._

_v) I should probably also note that I'm not a medical doctor, nor have I ever been shot (for which I am very thankful!) so nothing will be 'technically' correct._

* * *

**ALL OF THE NIGHT**

_I won't leave_

_I can't hide_

_I cannot be_

_Until you're resting here with me_

_Dido – Here With Me_

He paced.

As he waited in the corridor, as Danny arrived, as her Father and brothers arrived, as Ali McGregor arrived, as Mac and Stella arrived.

As Ali gently explained "...she's suffered huge blood loss and the bullet's seriously damaged her liver and stomach; there's massive trauma. Even if she makes it through surgery there's risk of further bleeding, sepsis, respiratory problems, pneumonia, obstruction...Don, you need to be prepared for the worst."

As the surgeon reported that she'd been moved from the OR to critical care, somberly advising "…the next six hours are crucial".

As dusk began to fall over the city they fought to serve and he watched her through the glass wall, covered in tubes and wires with monitors beeping.

As "…the next six hours are crucial" was replaced with "…the next twelve hours".

As she was suddenly surrounded by a barrage of alarms and then doctors; then rushed back to the OR.

As she was once more returned to him and a new dawn broke.

He paced.

:-:-:

Five days had passed; Connor Dunbrook had been found, the Captain had allowed him to cuff her shooter but drawn the line at any further involvement and her doctor had hesitantly pronounced that she was 'cautiously optimistic'. She remained in critical care, attached to all sort of machines; breathing for her, feeding her and caring for her. He lived between the Precinct and her bed side, stopping at his apartment only to shower and collect clean clothes. He rarely slept and barely ate. He held her hand, prayed to his God and talked to her quietly; promising everything he could think of if she'd just squeeze his hand or let him know she could hear.

:-:-:

He was late leaving the Precinct that afternoon; an old case had broken and whilst he resented the new developments, he did what had to be done. Leaving the Precinct late meant he arrived at the hospital late, his hair still wet from the shower in the locker rooms and scrubbing his hands over his exhausted face.

Her room was empty, her things had been cleared.

"Where is she?! Jessica Angell?! She was in room five-ten last night!" He knew he was shouting but was filled with terror and anger and dread. The young RN glared at him, tersely explaining that she had just started her shift so wasn't yet fully up-to-date with the unit's current patient list. The moment the tears welled in his eyes and he pleaded, "Please, just tell me where she is" her demeanor softened, taking him by the arm and leading him to the nurse's station.

The pretty Southern doctor that had been caring for Jess appeared, face kind and gentle as always, explaining that they'd just finished settling her in a new room. That the ventilator had been removed that morning, she was breathing on her own and the sedation was wearing off; that while Jess still wasn't out of the woods, it was a big step.

"Talk her; she needs to know you're there" Dr Jackson advised, smiling.

:-:-:

He was always amazed by the way his hands could span around her waist with ease and how light she felt in his arms but looking at her in the hospital bed, engulfed by equipment, he was terrified by how tiny she seemed. But with the tube removed from her mouth she looked more like 'his girl' and he tenderly traced his finger over her features; her cheek bones, the rounded tip of her nose, the dimples that appeared when she smiled; before pressing his lips to her forehead and collapsing into the chair at her side.

Taking her hand in his, he worked his finger across the ink on her wrist; "Jess, I know you can hear." His early memories of the office block bomb aftermath were hazy but he _did _remember hearing. Mac telling him to squeeze his hand, his sister-in-law telling him that he was going to be an Uncle again and Stella smugly telling him that she'd seen Danny and Lindsay making out in the corridor. "Just let me know you can hear me. Please."

Almost a week with little sleep or food, coupled with the rhythmic beep of her machines finally lulled him into restless slumber. His head resting on her bed and fingers entwined with hers; stirring each time someone entered the room and to regularly whisper words of love and promise.

:-:-:

Her fingers closed around his and she murmured a little moan, barely above a whisper.

Cupping her face in his hands he peered at her, his nose almost touching hers. "Jess? Can you hear me? It's Don." Her eyes flickered a little and his heart raced. "Baby, can you open your eyes?"

Her eyes flickered again and her head nodded slowly, croaking garbled sounds.

As the tears formed in his eyes once more, he brushed a soft kiss to her forehead, firmly instructing "Open your eyes Jessica, I know you can. Open your eyes and use your words."

Her brow knotted into a pained frown and then after swallowing, her eyes opened enough for him to see the deep chocolate pools.

"Hey! Hey beautiful girl!" he crooned, brushing the tears from his cheek with the back of his hand.

She allowed her eyes to close, before swallowing again and opening them widely; brown and blue meeting once more. "Hi…" she whispered.

His face crumpled and all he could do was helplessly smooth a hand across her hair. Squeezing his hand again she continued, "The diner…"

Shaking his head fiercely, heart wrenched that her first thoughts were of the location she was gunned down; he soothed, "No, you don't need to worry about that now; all that matters is you."

"Tillery Diner," she repeated; her voice a little stronger but frown deepening as her eyes closed, "I hate it."

He laughed, and cried, through relief and happiness and amusement and a hundred other feelings he couldn't comprehend; "I know Jess, I know; I hate the Tillery Diner too."


	2. Chapter 2

_Aww, take good care of my baby_

_Now don't you every make her cry_

_Just let your love surround her_

_Paint a rainbow all around her_

_Don't let her see a cloudy sky  
_

__

Bobby Vee – Take Good Care of my Baby

---

He'd always admired and adored her strong will and strength of mind, but in the weeks following the shooting, his respect reached a new level.

It was with stubborn determination that she fought to recover from her injuries; persevering through pain, battling countless set-backs and enduring physical therapy. She did it all with a grin and a string of quips; refusing help and insisting on doing everything alone.

He remembered from his own recovery how important independence had been; although each time he knowingly allowed her to struggle, it felt like a punch in the stomach. And it almost ruined him, to see the truth; that her grin didn't reach her eyes. That when they were alone and he stretched out on the hospital bed beside her, she finally let her guard down; admitting, sometimes through tears and sometimes through snappish words, how much she ached and how scared she both was and had been.

When she was finally discharged, she went home with her Father. Although he knew it was the right decision, that she needed someone who'd be there to care for her 24/7; he dreaded losing her again, albeit temporarily.

They texted, called and e-mailed constantly, and he visited her as often as he felt was right. He avoided all shop talk, instead keeping her up to date with gossip and passing on get well messages, while she kept him up to date with how fed up she was and how monotonous her days were.

:-:-:

Cliff Angell answered the door, gritting his teeth and shaking his head, growling "That damn girl…talk some sense into her Don!" before disappearing along the suburban street in a temper.

Moving through the Angell family home, he took his time to examine the many photograph that chronicled her life; as an infant, her first day of school, with her Mother, swinging a bat, in her Prom dress, outside a Parisian café and her academy graduation ceremony. The most recent photograph was familiar, he remembered the day he'd taken it; they'd stopped halfway down the slope to catch their breath and she'd tugged the camera from her ski pants pocket, tossing it to him and shrugging "My old man bugs me for pictures".

He found her in the backyard, stretched out on a blanket and soaking up the June sun. Dressed in bright plaid shorts, tank top and his faded Rangers cap, her eyes were closed and pink was beginning to appear on her shoulders.

"You're beginning to burn" he observed, dropping down beside her and laying a gentle kiss on her cheek, "you need to cover up, or go in, or something."

Opening one eye, she glowered, snapping "And you need to stop telling me what to do."

Noting that her mood had become shorter in the recent days, he chose not to retort, instead lying back and enjoying the warmth. "The Messers send their love…jeez, I still can't get over that there's _three_ of them now…anyway, Danny says he'll bring the baby by to visit when he's off tomorrow." Despite her tomboy exterior, he knew how much she adored children and had watched with delight at the way she'd held Lucy Messer, with natural instinct and confidence.

Seeing that a little interest had been sparked, he rolled onto his side, rubbing a finger across her patterned wrist. "Want to start again?"

Ignoring her indifferent shrug, he wrapped his arms around her; kissing her tenderly, "Hey Jess", before settling himself along her body, taking care not to disturb her position. They lay together, his hand trailing along her tanned arm, musing that it seemed so much thinner than before, until she sighed and nestled her head against his shoulder "Hey Don".

:-:-:

"I'm fed up of being babied and of everyone telling me what to do."

He bit his tongue; knowing that both contesting and reasoning with the complaint was liable to start a squabble, instead simply listening as her tirade continued. "I'm fed up of being poked and prodded; of constantly being asked if I'm okay but people changing the subject if I don't say that I _am_ okay; of being tired; of my old man questioning my every move…jeez, I can't even go to the bathroom without him following me; of being sore; of not being able to do things; of being such a fucking mess…I want to go home. I'm ready to go home Don. Take me, please?"

He _did_ understand; he'd uttered similar words after the bomb and far less polite ones, finally struggling into a cab outside his brother's house and going home under his own steam. "You're not a mess, and you're not being babied Jess; it's just that we all love you and care about you and want to look after you."

She wrinkled her nose, struggling to sit up and reach for the glass beside her. "Grape Kool-Aid?! I've not drunk this since I was twelve but my Dad's suddenly making it for me again. You tell me how that's not 'babying'?!"

Laughing, he sat up and took the glass from her, finishing the purple drink. "Okay, that's maybe a little bit of babying but you know, grape Kool-Aid holds its own over the years; it's still pretty good!"

For the first time since his arrival she smiled, her dimples appearing and eyes twinkling. "Sorry for snapping before Don, I'm just…" She trailed off, shrugging apologetically but he nodded, "I know."

Peering at her shoulders, she sighed "You're right though, I guess I should go in; I'm kind of tired too." Holding out her hand, she asked "Will you help me, please?"

She slipped her arm around his waist and leaned against him as they walked indoors; allowing herself to be lifted into his arms and carried upstairs. After settling her into her old bed, he poked around the room; absorbing more of the Jess Angell from a time before he knew her. The room clearly hadn't been redecorated since her teenage years when she left home; dozens of sporting trophies, a wall map with pins indicating the countries she wanted to visit and a bookcase crammed full of thrillers, mysteries and classics, both in French and English, and police procedure texts inherited from her Father and Grandfather. "I don't know why he keeps it like this" she rolled her eyes, "I keep telling him but he won't budge."

He stayed with her as she fought sleep; as she fantasized about the vacation they could take to the sun and the dates they could have when she returned home. When her eyes finally closed, he napped a little next to her and flicked through the celebrity magazine that sat on the nightstand. As he heard the door slam and footsteps below, he finally disentangled himself from her hold.

:-:-:

Walking into the kitchen, he struggled to suppress a snort of laughter at Cliff Angell's suspicious glare. Even with his daughter injured and frail, the Detective Sergeant really preferred to up hold the 'no boys upstairs' rule he'd applied in her youth.

"Is she resting?"

"Uh-huh," gratefully accepting the beer that was offered, he expanded "She crashed out about an hour ago."

Her Father nodded, then sighed "Suppose she's told you that she wants to go back to her own apartment?"

"Uh-huh" he repeated, trying to avoid eye contact and an awkward discussion.

"I'm not happy about it; I'd rather she stayed here, when I can keep an eye on her and protect her from anymore harm. But," he sighed again, "I know she's a grown woman and needs to start moving on."

Looking up, he met Cliff's frown, surprised by his words.

"Promise me that you'll look after my little girl Don, that you'll take good care of her? That you'll stay with her and keep her safe?"

Nodding fiercely, he promised "Always."


	3. Chapter 3

_Homeward bound_

_Home, where my thought's escaping_

_Home, where my music's playing_

_Home, where my love lies waiting_

_Silently for me_

_Simon & Garfunkel – Homeward Bound_

---

His down time fell only a few days after she'd asked to be taken home and so, he promised to collect her after clocking off, providing that it wasn't too late.

Since the shooting, her apartment had barely been touched and it was, for the most part, just as she'd left it that morning; make-up and jewelry scattered over the top of the dresser, coffee mug in the sink and lingerie, negligee and various other lacey garments, hanging on the drying rail in the bathroom. He'd tried to avoid her place over the weeks, unable to cope with the feeling of emptiness it brought, and instead relied on Ali or her sisters-in-law to collect the things she needed.

Lindsay offered to help him sort out Jess' place before he brought her home and he was deeply grateful. Although he could manage the domestic needs, he couldn't face the loneliness involved in the task. With Danny working, she met him at the apartment; stroller basket full of home cooking for the freezer and baby sleeping. Lindsay took charge of chores like sorting out laundry, changing sheets and restocking the kitchen, leaving him to push the vacuum around and rock Lucy when she stirred.

As he drove Mother and daughter home, Lindsay started the questioning she and Danny had obviously agreed.

:-:-:

"Don, how are you doing? I mean, _really_ doing?"

He shrugged, not taking his eyes from the road, "I'm fine."

Muttering a little, she pushed "You've been through a lot. Almost loosing the woman you love is a huge deal…you need to look after yourself as well as her."

Chuckling softly at his expression, she rolled her eyes, "Don't look so shocked; it's been obvious for a _very_ long time that you're completely besotted with Jess! In all the time I've known you, I've never seen you this way about a girl…Danny said the same." Patting him on the arm, she soothed "We're glad you've found each other."

Catching her eye he blushed, before soberly confessing "I don't know what I've had done if I'd lost her Linds…"

Giving his arm another squeeze, she let him continue, "I can't wait to have back but she's so fragile. I don't know what I can do to make this better for her; how to fix it."

"Oh Don," she sighed, "When will you men learn? You don't always need to try to 'fix' things. Jess just wants to be at home and be with the man she loves. You don't need to 'do' anything except be yourself."

Following her upstairs to what used to be Danny's apartment but was now the Messer family home, he carried the stroller and made sure they got in safely. As he shook his head at the offer of coffee, Lindsay hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek, "We'll come and visit in a few days, once you're both settled. And call if you need anything Don; anything at all."

:-:-:

The drive from her Father's house was quiet; she didn't switch on the radio or chatter as she usually did, instead wrapping her arms around herself and watching warily out of the window. As they pulled up at her building, she laced her fingers with his, nervously tugging on her bottom lip. "You ready?" he asked gently. Giving his hand a squeeze, and then letting out a long sigh, she nodded.

He tried to busy himself and leave her to prowl around her apartment in peace. Uneasily drifting from room to room, she shifted random objects and scrutinized others, before arriving in front of him at the sofa. "Did you tidy up for me?" she asked, eyes a little damp.

Gently tugging her down, grimacing as she hissed and rubbed a hand over her healing wound, he soothed "J…baby, hush; why the tears?"

Awkwardly folding herself around him, she hid her face in the crook of his neck and snuffled, "I'm just glad to be home."


	4. Chapter 4

_You're caught in a one way street_

_With the monsters in your head_

_Savage Garden – Crash and Burn_

---

On the surface she'd made huge progress. The external wound had healed well and recovery from the internal injuries was improving daily. She could comfortably manage around the apartment and although she swore she was up to her store-on-the-corner and sunbathing-in-the-park trips, he knew perfectly well that she caught a cab home and rested for hours afterwards.

But on the inside she struggled. Losing her Mother as a child meant she'd perfected her 'brave face'; laughing and smiling and joking regardless. She'd spent too many years of relying on no one but herself and keeping her feelings tucked deep inside. She played loud music, started a few silly squabbles and shouted in French now and again in bid to reassure him, but he could see past the facade. She couldn't hide that her eyes were sad and empty, that she hated if his service weapon wasn't stored in the lock box in the closet and that she all too often woke in the night in terror, or sobs, or simply just didn't sleep.

:-:-:

In the early days of her being at home there were highs.

On discovering her in bed, surrounded by yarn and knitting needles, he'd howled with laughter; the first time he'd truly laughed since before the shooting. "My sister-in-law stopped by" she'd scowled. "She was particularly unsympathetic to my plight of being fed up with Jack Reacher and daytime TV and suggested I try," setting down the needles she'd used air quotes, sneering "something a 'little more productive'. So, I'm knitting."

The afternoon he'd arrived back from the Precinct, to find a curious scene of domesticity, showed him a glimpse of a future he'd previously only seen in his daydreams. Jess was stretched out the sofa very contently cradling Lucy Messer, while Danny busied himself in the compact kitchen with his famous Chicken Parmigiana; a strange discussion, the previous night's game mixed up with a recent case, being batted between the pair. On raising an eyebrow in question, she'd grinned deviously "As much as I love you Don; Messer kicks your ass in the kitchen. And we're helping him just as much as he's helping us...if he wasn't cooking here, Lindsay would have him busy with some dreaded DIY."

But they were all too often overshadowed by dark lows; her anger at all and everything, the days she resented his presence and the days she clung to him desperately, the pain she fought to hide, and the night he woke to find her slumped on a kitchen stool; his gun on the countertop.

:-:-:

"Jess?" he tried to sound calm as she stared intently between the weapon and her belly.

"My Dad was going to give me his gun and badge the day I graduated the Academy," she didn't look up, "I liked the idea of his number but not…You get anything?"

He moved closer, debating whether he should slide the weapon from her reach or leave her be. Her moods had been so erratic lately he couldn't be sure quite what she was going to do. "My old man bought me a watch."

Nodding thoughtfully, she drew her knees to her chest, curling herself into a tight awkward ball.

"I see him you know", she raised her eyes long enough to meet his before screwing them closed. "I see him lining me up and pulling the trigger...like it's all in slow motion. What if I can't do it anymore Don? Hold a gun? Be a cop?"

:-:-:

He woke her early the next morning; lovingly easing the sleep from her body before shepherding her into the shower, then dressing and downstairs to the car. "Where we going?" she asked good-naturedly, her voice perking up at the prospect of a trip out. "Somewhere you need to go" he told her somberly, cupping her chin and kissing her forehead.

Driving the familiar route towards his childhood home, he pulled in at a row of buildings and led her along to the end property. As he pulled open the heavy door, she glanced at the small sign inside, turning to glare at him "What the fuck Flack?!" 'Flack' wasn't a name she used much anymore; usually reserving it for work or to tease him.

"I'm sorry baby but you need to be here. 'What if I can't do it anymore', you said it yourself."

He'd chosen the range his Father had taught him to shoot at; somewhere he knew would be deserted and where there wouldn't be any questions. While he really wanted to keep her safe at home, he knew that pushing her was probably the right thing to do; that he had to be cruel to be kind. Although she glared at him again, it was with less conviction and she took his hand as they crossed the threshold.

Watching her pull on the ear defenders then size up the firearm in her hand, he left her in peace and began to empty the clip of his own weapon; briefly seeing the shooter he'd cuffed instead of the paper silhouette target. Looking back towards her, she stood motionless; her eyes glazed over and trembling. Choking back a tear, he slid in behind her and as his arms wrapped around her to guide her grip, she leaned into him. He stood with her as she squeezed the trigger for the first time, but gradually stepped back with each shot.

Her expression was haunted when she finally turned to him, after letting off the last round. Taking the gun from her hand, he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly until her body relaxed. "I'm _so_ proud of you Jess Angell."

:-:-:

Instead of leading her back to the car, he firmly held her hand and tugged her across the street.

As his intended destination became clear she didn't resist; just pausing for a reassuring hug and tender kiss, and nodding as he promised "I'm here with you J, I won't let anything happened."

After much deliberating, in Joe's Diner where the Flack family had eaten for over three decades, cinnamon raisin French toast became her breakfast of choice that morning. Crinkling her nose at the bacon that came with his pancakes, she crunched on a piece anyway before declaring a little sadly, "Nope, it doesn't taste good anymore…"

"I'm glad you brought me here this morning."

He shook his head, opening his mouth to quash her words but she cut him off, "No Don, I mean it. I know I've been a nightmare lately and a real bitch at times. You're always there though; looking after me and being so…wonderful. Thank you." Stretching over the table she kissed him, mumbled against his lips "I love you."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N:_

_i) Thank you to everybody who has read, and to all who have written such lovely reviews. I know I'm terribly slow at replying, but I promise I will._

_ii) I own nothing, Flack & Angell have replaced the pet I'm not allowed to have etc._

_iii) I know that Mad World is really a Tears for Fears track, I'm sure there's even a copy of the LP in my house, but I like the Gary Jules ('Donnie Darko') version more._

_

* * *

_

_And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad_

_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had_

_I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take_

_When people run in circles it's a very, very_

_Mad world, mad world_

_Gary Jules – Mad World_

---

While she always looked good and had a bathroom crammed full of enough make-up and products and things to stock a small store, it was her effortless and natural beauty that radiated.

It was late when he stole into her apartment, hoping to find her fast asleep but instead finding her stripped to her underwear in front of the full height bathroom mirror. Leaning against the door jamb, he watched as she examined her body.

She was thinner than usual; scrawny instead of just slender and her features were a little sunken. Her hair lacked its usual sheen and despite her initial fervor for sunbathing, she'd recently rarely left the apartment leaving her skin pallid. Usually quite content with her figure, she grimaced as she stared at her reflection. Moving closer to the mirror she peered at the scarring on her abdomen; the puckered entry wound and accompanying incisions.

"I know you're hovering there", her voice was quiet as she acknowledged his presence, although she didn't turn.

Crossing the bathroom to stand behind her, he trailed a delicate finger along a parallel route to her scars. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met" he breathed, dropping a kiss on her bare shoulder.

Snorting, she began to move away but he gripped her arms, halting her. "You're gorgeous! And this," he circled her gently and stooped to press his lips to the marks, "only makes you more so. I adore ever single inch of this body; but it's _you_ that I want, _you_ that I love." Pulling his shirt off in one fluid movement, he exposed his own long jagged scar; "We're two of a kind now Jess", before cupping her chin and kissing her deeply.

:-:-:

From the first night they'd spent together, they'd been in harmony; instantly in tune with each other's needs and pleasures, desires and fantasies. Neither had ever let the physical side of their relationship slide; from days spend making slow, sweet love to fast, furious sex snatched between cases.

With her body so battered and bruised, it had barely crossed his mind but after the outing to the range, they'd found themselves back in bed. Whilst he didn't deny that he'd missed being with her, _a lot_, he'd had reservations about resuming things when she was so fragile, both physically and emotionally.

:-:-:

Still standing at the bathroom mirror, he peeled away her unusually plain cotton underwear and turned her around, forcing her to watch as he rediscovered every part of her body; his words of worship burning her skin. Finally giving into her whimpers and pleads, he knelt in front of her; suckling and lapping her to a spiraling descent of release.

Lifting her shuddering body into his arms, he carried to bed, drawing back the sheets and laying her down. Quickly shedding his remaining clothes, he spooned himself around her tiny frame; his strong arms holding her flush against his chest. She'd once told him during a late night conversation, through sleepy grins and stolen kisses, how utterly desirable and secure he made her feel this way. Sliding his knee between her thighs, he filled her from behind; rocking her, with the intuition only a well versed and caring lover could have, until she wept his name.

Turning her in his arms once more, he smoothed her hair from her face and soothed her to sleep with words of love, and admiration, and hope.

:-:-:

He stirred, aware that she was writhing beside him. About to shift and pull her against his body once more, she suddenly sat bolt upright; grabbing wildly at the sheets with glassy eyes. Instantly awake, he gathered her trembling naked body against his; her skin cold and clammy. "You're okay Jess, you're safe" he pacified, holding her tighter as she began to struggle.

"Let me go" she cried, breaking free from his embrace and making a dash to the bathroom.

About to follow, he paused when he heard the sounds of her retching. Instead he moved a little slower; pulling on shorts, then retrieving a pair of her pajamas from the dresser and passing through the kitchen to fill a glass with juice, before creeping into the bathroom.

She leant against the vanity counter, her hands resting on the surface and her head dropped. Sighing as he ran a protective palm down the length of her spine, she obediently complied as he dressed her and brushed her damp hair from her brow, gratefully accepting the glass he finally offered.

As he led her back to bed, she looked at him helplessly. "I dreamt I was dead; that I didn't make it through surgery. You were standing over me and Hammerback came to collect my body for autopsy. He quoted Lincoln to you, 'How weak and fruitless must be any word of mine…'"

Lying her back down along the length of his body, he did his best to settle and calm her but all the time thinking how true in part her nightmare was; that when she was faced with such torment, how weak and fruitless must be any word of his.


	6. Chapter 6

_As strong as you were, tender you go_

_I'm watching you breathing for the last time_

_A song for your heart, when it is quiet_

_I know what it means and I'll carry you home_

_James Blunt – Carry You Home_

---

While her body had healed, her spirit and soul had faded beyond recognition.

He knew that she took the painkillers whether she ached or not, he knew that she visited the counselor the hospital referred her to but spend the sessions in silence, he knew that she barely ate or slept, he knew that her days were spent in front of the TV and he knew, that he didn't know how to help her.

As he sat in Ali McGregor's apartment, whisky in hand, the tears unashamedly rolled down his cheeks. "I don't know what to do anymore. It's like she's vanishing from right in front of me and all I need to do is take her hand…but I can't reach. I love her so much and I just want her back."

:-:-:

He'd barely pushed her apartment door open the following evening, when he heard the shouting. The heated argument was conducted in enraged sounding French; an unfamiliar female, followed by Jess' unmistakable yells. Torn between allowing the fight to work itself out and leaping to her aid, his feet remained rooted in the common hallway.

"Because Jessica…" Suddenly the language barrier was broken and Ali's rolling accent resonated. He always forgot that the two women had met overseas and shared a common tongue. Jess' voice then rose to a fearsome crescendo, following the language of choice, "Because why Alison?!"

There was silence and his breath caught, desperate to sooth her rage and hurt at an argument with a friend.

"Because all that's left of you is anger," Ali's voice was soft again, sad and filled with desperation, "it's like you're not there anymore. Like the wild girl that moved into my spare room all those years ago has…gone somewhere else. You're my best friend and like a sister; I'm not going to let this happen to you."

"Look at me though Ali; look what I've become. Who wants this? What's the point?"

The words crushed him, and he tasted the bile rising.

"That man worships the ground you walk on Jess; he more than 'wants' you!"

As the apartment filled with Jess' sobs, and he heard her plead, "I want to be _me_ again" then "I don't want to lose Don", he pulled the door closed and retreated from the building.

:-:-:

When he finally returned to the apartment, he found her slumped on the floor, the room silent and dark. Sliding down the wall he sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her as the tears soaked his shirt. "I don't know what's happening to me."

He nodded, unable to form words.

"I'm going to go away with Ali, just for a while; I think it's what I need to do."

He nodded again.

"Will you be here when I get back?" her voice was hesitant.

Tightening his arms around her fading frame, he breathed "I'm not going anywhere Jess."

His mother had given him the chain around his neck shortly before she died, the only time it'd been removed since then was during his stay in hospital after the bomb but unclipping it he held it out to her, "I promise", before fastening it around her neck.

:-:-:

When she finally fell into uneasy slumber, he watched over her; pacing back and forth across the bedroom just as he'd done during her first days in hospital, eventually coming to rest in the living room. ESPN flickered silently on the TV screen, but his head rested in his hands; inwardly cursing the bastard that had reduced her, from strong and gutsy, to fragile and afraid.

If he'd had the opportunity when he cuffed her shooter, would he have reaped revenge? Shown him the barrel of _his_ gun? Shot him in cold blood? Although he couldn't be sure, he suspected the answer was yes.

:-:-:

He watched over her again when they rose in the morning. As she folded the jeans and shorts that now sat so loosely on her hips into her backpack; as she picked at the bagel he set in front of her; as she sat curled in his lap, head tucked under his chin.

"You'll be here when I get back?" she asked again.

Tightening his arms around her, he nodded "I promise."

:-:-:

Ali greeted them outside the building with her usual breezy exuberance, although he saw the way she so tenderly hugged her friend.

"Put your girl in the car" she instructed, stretching to kiss his cheek and softly reassure "She'll be fine."

He nodded, still troubled that it wasn't him that was able to 'fix' her. Noticing his forlorn expression Ali hugged him a little, shrugging "Going away will just give her something else to think about for a while; a different perspective. That's all _I_ can do for her Don. You're the one she loves; the one she wants to be with." She grinned, "Before you know it Flack, you'll be cursing me again; that I'm leading your precious Jessica astray and plying her with bottomless margaritas!"

Forcing a smile he nodded, "I hope so. Just be sure and look after her McGregor, and keep in touch."

Crouching beside the open passenger door he cupped her chin in his hand, tracing his thumb gently across her cheek. "Oh Jess," he sighed, leaning forward to kiss her, "I love you so much...so much it sometimes hurts." He placed his hand over her heart and kissed her one last time. "I'll be here, when you get home."


	7. Chapter 7

_Wherever you are_

_Nearby or far_

_Black, white, lemon or lime_

_I hope you last a long, long time_

_Semisonic – Made to Last_

---

He'd returned to his own apartment the night Jess left; lying awake for hours before cursing and getting up, driving to her place and finally falling asleep in her bed. While he'd hated being in her apartment during her time in hospital, finding it oppressive and painful, he found it comforting during her second absence and never ventured back home.

Staggering through the door, hot and sticky and jaded after a particularly tedious day, he immediately noticed a different. It wasn't that he couldn't do housework; just that he hadn't worked up the motivation to tackle the mess that he was creating in her home. When the path of destruction, empty take-out cartons and beer bottles and dirty laundry, had become too overwhelming, he'd started spending even more time in the Precinct and O'Sheas.

But a cool, calmness had been returned; music played at a modest volume and the staleness had been replaced with the sweet scent of fresh air and clean laundry.

She had her back to him, sorting a stack of paperbacks collected from the bedroom and coffee table back into their places on the bookcase. Dressed in shorts and a purple floral tank-top, her arms and legs were darkly tanned and hair sat loosely curled on her shoulders. Slowly she turned to him, and he thought she'd never looked more wonderful. She'd left a scrawny, pale, shadow of her former self but returned radiant.

"Hey" she greeted him shyly, tugging on her bottom lip and scrunching her nose anxiously.

His feet were momentarily stuck as he drank her in; the sun-kissed glow across her cheeks, the dimples as she smiled and the effortless beauty that had been found again. Finally regaining the use of his legs, he made his way across the room to meet her, his grin widening with every step. Taking her in his arms, he hugged her tightly, "Hey."

:-:-:

She let him hold her for as long as he wanted, their breaths synchronizing. He could smell the scent of her body lotion, the expensive sea air fragrance one she didn't usually use for every day, and the coconut of her shampoo. Her previously gaunt body seemed a little fuller in his arms. Twisting his fingers through her hair it felt silky and smooth, and brushing across the nape of her neck he marveled at her soft, warm skin.

Pulling back, she pressed a tender kiss to his lips, blushing as he smiled "You look really good Jess." As he reached out to hold her once more, she caught his hand; leading him to the sofa and perching on the coffee table.

"There are things I need to say…"

Shaking his head, he argued "You don't need to say anything."

"No Don, I do." The sincerity in her tone and need in her eyes silenced him; suddenly knowing that whatever she had to say was part of her healing process. Leaning forward, he grazed his lips to her forehead, "I'm listening to you; whenever you want to talk I'm listening."

They sat silently, their fingers intertwined until she eventually spoke.

"I thought I could just ride it out; that as the gun shot healed, all the crap would go away. But it didn't; everything started…I started…to go crazy. Denying things were easier than dealing with them, and soon the denial started to seem like the truth. When it all finally stopped, it was scary as hell." She looked up at him, giving him a rueful smile, "Turns out I'm not so good with scary..."

"Oh Jess", he breathed.

She crinkled her nose again, "I'm not sure what was worse", before shrugging, "but I guess it doesn't really matter. You were the one that was there; the one who stopped everything. That's what matters."

Frowning, he looked at her a little confused.

"You were the one that saw the truth; that I was out of control. You were the one that said it out loud. You didn't walk away when I was crazy, you told me that you loved me; you told me that no matter how bad things got. Thank you."

He shook his head, lifting her into his lap in one deft movement and apologizing "I wish I could have stopped it being scary to start with."

Resting her forehead against his, she calmly resolved "I think it's maybe okay to be a little scared sometimes." Then, adding under her breath with an exasperated shake of her head "Most definitely _not _my finest hour though…"

They sat together for a long time; lost in their own thoughts. Finally she shifted a little, laying a gentle palm on his cheek and softly brushing her lips to his; managing to convey, in one simple action, all the depth and soul and emotion that her words couldn't describe. "I really hope it'll always be you, that you'll always be here Don; I love you."

"I love you too Jess," he tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, "and I don't plan on going anywhere. But baby, you know weren't crazy, don't you?"

She nodded, rolling her eyes and balking a little "According to my psychiatrist, I am indeed not and have never been, 'crazy'." As he raised an eyebrow in question, she explained, "I hated that asshole the hospital packed me off to, so Ali called in a favor and got me referred."

Seeing the concentration in his face as he tried to work out her movements, she snuggled into his embrace "Ali's bought a place up on the coast, she's been doing it up over the past few of months; Matt's been giving her a hand too and the house can be ours sometime, if we're willing to work for it. Anyway, I've spent the past week or so up there living under the McGregor Regime. We came back down yesterday since I had an appointment this morning, but just stayed at hers. I wanted to sort things out before coming home; you don't mind do you?"

He shook his head, tightening his arms around her. He wanted to ask questions; find out what she did in her time away, what her doctor said and how she now felt but decided, it was better to let her talk at her own pace.

"Ali just pushed me round; loading me with food and forcing me out in the sun, giving me a few lectures and stuff. You did the difficult bit by putting up with all my craziness…"

"Don't say 'crazy' Jess", he rebuked, "Don't say it, not even in jest."

Nodding again, she sighed "I know."

"The shrink thing was okay actually, Dr Hanns is pretty nice…kind of like someone's Mom. We just talked; there were no weird ink pictures or crap." He saw the way she squirmed when she mentioned 'shrink' and his heart went out to her. After the bomb he'd seen a counselor for a long time, far longer than the Force had actually required. He'd never told anyone about his sessions, fearing that they'd think less of him, but reasoning in his own mind that it wasn't _that_ different from seeking guidance from a priest.

"We talked about you actually" she volunteered suddenly, smiling fondly "I told her what a _nice boy_ you are!"

Chuckling, he kissed her again before falling silent once more, his fingers following the ink lines on her tanned wrist until his belly rumbling broke the moment. She rubbed her hand across his stomach, laughing "I see some things haven't changed! Come on Detective, you've eaten me out of house and home but let's see what we can find you."

:-:-:

He woke the next morning, bright sunshine streaming through the blinds and feeling more rested than he had in months. Her side of the bed was empty and he lay for a few moments listening for signs of life. As he heard the door click shut and footsteps, he propped himself up on his elbows and watched her pad into the bedroom; already dressed in shorts and a hoodie, carrying a take-out tray with coffee and humming softly.

"Morning sleepy head" she grinned, gently jostling him so he shifted across the bed.

Passing over a breakfast bagel and kiss, she poked out her tongue as he teased "This part of the 'McGregor Regime' too?! An early morning breakfast run _and_ a hymn!"

"Don't joke about it Don; the 'McGregor Regime' was actually a little frightening at times…that girl really can be crazy!" Biting into the bagel she groaned in delight, "How did I manage to go so long with hardly eating? This is _so _good! And just so you know smarty-pants, I was going more for the Elvis version rather than the hymn version!"

He laughed, a real deep laugh that started in his belly, before nestling closer to her side and watching her eat with gusto, thinking just how apt her choice of song was, be it the Elvis or hymn version; '…I once was lost but now am found'.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N:_

_i) According to CBS, Angell's date of birthday is September 2nd, 1981. _

* * *

_We're gonna have a good time_

_I'm glad it's your birthday_

_Happy birthday to you_

_The Beatles – Birthday_

---

Jess took her birthday seriously; usually talking about it in the weeks before with almost childlike enthusiasm.

During her hospital stay, on one of the many afternoons her room was crammed with friends and family, her birthday had been the topic of conversation; each person recounting their most memorable tale. Cliff Angell had howled with laughter as he'd relayed the look of horror on Jess' face when she'd opened a parcel containing a doll on her seventh birthday, and the mileage he still got from the photographs. "Jessie," he'd laughed, the tears rolling down his cheeks, "you were so pissed…you really wanted some action figure or other, but your Mother was determined you were going to have a girl's toy."

Nick Angell, her third brother, had leaned back in his chair muttering under his breath, "Word of warning Flack mate; do not _ever_ overlook my sister's birthday...she's mad about it. Mad!"

Although she hadn't mentioned her birthday particularly much, the aftermath of the shooting still hanging low, he was determined it made up, at least a little, for the summer.

:-:-:

Setting down his carefully laid breakfast tray he crawled back into bed, his warm breath fanning across her cheek, "Mornin' birthday girl." She groaned, burrowing further under the sheets and resisting the morning as she so often did. Brushing the tangled hair from her face, he tickled her nose until she finally opened her eyes; scowling a little as he then teased her lips.

"Hey beautiful" he soothed, melding her body against his as she slowly began to wake, before playfully quizzing "So, what day _is_ it today?"

Stretching in his arms, she grinned sleepily, "It's my birthday! Yay!"

His eyes widened, "Really?!"

Crinkling her nose in disgust at his mockery, she shifted even closer, "Uh-huh, and that means we have do what I want all day…remember; my birthday, my rules."

"Is that so Jessica?!" he grinned before covering her inked rib cage with his lips.

:-:-:

While he was determined to ensure her birthday was extra special, and was quietly confident that she'd adore his choice of gift; he was at a loss of how to actually celebrate the day.

The previous year they'd spent the day working, then dined at her favorite restaurant and danced at her favorite club with a group of friends. Although she was definitely getting back to her old self, she was still a little fragile and he decided that a night on the town wasn't even an option.

Eventually, he'd given up and just asked how she wanted to spend her day; laughing a little ruefully at the stark comparison, when she told him that she'd like to laze together in the sun and eat dinner at The Ho-Wong.

:-:-:

Padding into the kitchen, dressed and ready to leave, she caught the end of his telephone conversation. "...Nah, I just don't think she's up to it; maybe another time..."

She watched as he shoved his cell phone back into his shorts pocket, before frowning "What am I not up to?"

Holding out her sunglasses, he shook his head "Nothing. You ready?"

"Who were you speaking to?"

As his jaw began to tighten, she folded her arms and narrowed her eyes, "I'm serious Don, who was that? And what am I 'not up to'?"

He sighed, knowing that while it was never mentioned, his 'over protectiveness' was becoming a bone of contention. It wasn't that he was trying to be over bearing, just that he wasn't willing to let anything else happen to her. "It was Stel', okay? She wanted to know if we were up for meeting her and some of the other lab rats later so they could buy you birthday drinks. I told her we already had plans but would do it some other time. Happy now?"

"No!" her eyes narrowed further and her voice adopted the fighting tone he hadn't heard for a long time, "I heard you! You told her we wouldn't meet them 'cause I'm 'not up to it'. Jeez Don, you've got to stop this!"

Moving for the door, he calmly brushed off her outburst. "Can we just go Jess? Please? I'm not arguing with you, not today; I want us to have a good time."

"No!" she repeated, her tone then softening, "I know I was a crazy mess Don and I love that you care so much, but you can't keep deciding what's best for me!"

"Would you quit saying 'crazy'?!" he snapped, yelling "You weren't fucking crazy!"

While they frequently bickered, and he wasn't afraid to raise his voice to her, it was rare for him to actually yell. Blinking in surprise, she watched him gather the force for an almighty row, "You weren't fucking crazy Jess, you almost died."

:-:-:

As he suddenly slumped onto a kitchen stool, she saw all the composure and strength that he'd maintained over the months drain away; leaving behind a vulnerable and worn out man.

"I heard the shots." His voice was hoarse. "One minute I could hear you laughing about something and the next, all I could hear was breaking glass and gun fire. I heard you yelling, I heard you fire your weapon and then...then I couldn't hear you." He dropped his head into his hands. "When I got to the diner you were on the ground. I held my hands to your belly to try and stop the blood. Christ, I've never seen so much blood Jess..."

Listening to his haunting account of the day, she felt her eyes begin to sting and saw flashbacks of looking up at him from the backseat of the Sedan.

"I thought I was going to lose you; in the diner, and then in the car, and when we got to the hospital, and then when they took you back to surgery that night. When you finally came home I thought things were going to be okay, but they weren't. I know you went through hell, and I know that going away was what you had to do get better; I know that baby, I _really_ do, but it was like almost losing you all over again."

He looked up at her with wide, desperate eyes. "I need you Jess; I need you here…I want you here. With me. All of the time."

:-:-:

Her hell had also been his, she knew that.

She knew that she'd pushed him, that he'd been the outlet for her anger and pain, that he'd been her shoulder to cry on and that she'd said terrible things to him. She knew that he'd never faltered; never shown her anything less than loyalty and commitment. She knew that he'd carried her through the summer months; supporting her, caring for her, being with her and then letting her go. She knew that, other than voicing his fears of her demise to Ali, and drinking himself into oblivion over her and being taken home by Danny, he'd done it alone.

:-:-:

Wrapping her arms around him, she cradled his hand and stroked his back, soothing him until he started to relax. Then, with a gentle hand on each side of his face, she lifted his head so that their eyes met "I love you Don Flack. I'm very much here to stay, with you, all of the time; I promise."

Drawing him back against her body, she held him again; whispering words of love and devotion.

:-:-:

"I'm sorry" he finally mumbled against her hair.

Leaning back, she traced a finger across his furrowed brow, "What on earth for?!"

"I'm sorry I yelled at you J, on your birthday."

She kissed him fiercely, shaking her head "Don't apologize Don, you've got nothing to be sorry for."

Knotting his fingers in the hem of her sun top, he sighed "I'm still sorry" before looking up and giving her a crooked smile, "So birthday girl, I'll call Stella back and tell her we're on for those drinks after all. We can still catch the sun, and get Chinese too."

"Nah," she shook her head lazily, "I didn't ever fancy the drinks to be honest." Draping her arms around him again, she thought back to the morning of the shooting and their conversation. "It was over some underwear, and my predictable breakfast."

Quirking an eyebrow at her random statement, he laughed as she grinned, "That's what we were laughing about that morning; I'd offered to wear that negligee you had a thing for and then you were mocking my breakfast choice. I just remembered the other day in the middle of a store, when I was trying on jeans. We both know my feelings on breakfast these days but I couldn't decide how you felt about black lace, so, my shopping trip found a new purpose…want to see what I bought instead?!"

:-:-:

It'd been a hell of a year; fearsome arguments, passionate love, good times and bad, and then almost dying in a shooting. But walking home with the man she loved, after eating late night Chinese and blowing out a single candle from an ice cream cupcake, her birthday seemed pretty damn perfect.


	9. Chapter 9

_You, you're such a big star to me_

_You're everything I want to be_

_Take That – Shine_

---

Although she was yet to be cleared to return to full active duty, she'd been placed on temporary modified assignment; a desk job in 1PP attached to a taskforce working on yet another case with Canadian authorities. She occasionally grumbled that the work was monotonous but he could see how much she enjoyed being back, and how much her confidence was growing.

Her hours at 1PP were strictly regulated; overtime was prohibited and word frequently filtered back to his Precinct that she'd been dispatched home having exceeding her allotted time for the day.

Having never returned to his own apartment, now using it for storage and a place to retreat to when she yelled at him for getting under her feet once too often, he grew spoiled with her being at home so regularly. She looked after him well; meals were invariably on the go when he walked through the door, there was always beer in the refrigerator and clothes seemed to magically transfer from the laundry basket, to clean and pressed in the closet. Despite her warning, "This isn't going to last Flack, when I'm back at the Precinct you'll have take turns at laundry and start calling for take-out again", she just chuckled fondly at the routine they'd fallen into.

While she had returned to work, albeit at a reduced capacity, and her sassiness was back to almost full force, never missing a joke or a smart remark or a chance to boss him around; she still missed a little of her old spark. When they'd first started dating, she'd been a true social butterfly; although he was latterly incorporated in her plans, her calendar had remained full right up until the shooting. Now she tended to stay home, inviting only close friends and family over, and occasionally venturing to their apartments. Although he adored having her to himself, he knew it wasn't in her best interests and that she needed to start getting into mischief with her girl friends once more.

:-:-:

"So," he started, forkful of baked salmon poised at his mouth, "we're going out tomorrow night."

She raised an eyebrow, "Is that a fact?"

Nodding, he chewed purposefully.

Her eyes narrowed a little as she watched him, "And where is it that you think we're going?"

Washing the food down with a mouthful of wine, he told her firmly "Beer with the boys from the Precinct and Lab. Finally closed the Wolmann case; first round is on the Captain and everyone's bugging me about seeing you. So, we're going. And the fish is good by the way."

"Thank you," she smiled at his compliment before frowning, "It's your case though Don, your beer. How come I need to go?"

Laying down his cutlery he sighed a little, "You know why you need to go J; it's not good for you being home all the time."

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes further, her defiance at being told what to do a strong as ever.

Leaning across, he brushed his lips to hers. "I'm not arguing with you Jessica, we're going and that's final. Besides," he stole another kiss, grinning "I like showing you off...what's the point of having a hot girlfriend if you don't hang off my arm sometimes?!"

Rolling her eyes at his reasoning, she surrendered "Okay okay Donald, you win."

:-:-:

He'd planned on leaving the Precinct a little early, going to O'Sheas via the apartment to not only change but collect her. Texting her earlier in the day to propose the arrangement, he'd smiled widely when she'd replied; telling him that she'd just see him there since she was going to meet a couple of girl friends, including Stella, beforehand.

He couldn't decide if it was sheer coincidence that Mac appeared in the Precinct, telling him that he was going to escort the women from their choice of bar to O'Sheas and asking if he wanted to tag along, or if it was a cunningly engineered plan. However, as the two men walked the few blocks in the late evening sun he suspected, from Mac's particularly fatherly line of questioning, that the latter was correct.

Entering the bar and seeing Jess in the throes of regaling a story to the small group of enraptured women, he grinned broadly; glad to see her back in the thick of things. As they approached the table, Jess caught his eye and quickly quelled her tale; ending by holding her hand across her heart and nodding solemnly, "I swear to God, he did." Swarms of women had always made him a little uncomfortable and as the group all turned to stare at him then dissolved into giggles, he felt his cheeks flush.

The group dispersed as they made their way along the street; Mac and Stella pairing off, the remaining women together and Jess slipping her hand into his to bring up the rear. Ducking into a doorway, she kissed him sweetly, murmuring against his lips "Have I told you how much I like you yet today?" He nodded happily but replied, "Uh-huh, but tell me again just to be sure." Laughing, she kissed him again, "I love you Don Flack."

"Get a room you two!" Stella's unmistakable holler broke the moment, "Making out in doorways in for teenagers, not cops!" Even Mac was sniggering when they reappeared but smiled fondly at them both, mouthing something unidentifiable to Stella.

"Have you been speaking to your sister?" she quizzed as they proceeded, suitably reprimanded.

He frowned, "It depends, why?"

"She called me today and gave me a little lecture, told me that she's not seen me enough lately. Needless to say, I'm now going out with her on Saturday night. But like tonight, there didn't seem to be much choice about in the matter..."

Chortling, he shook his head "Nah, that's all her own doing. She was right though, and…I never thought I'd say this...I'm glad she's bullied you into hitting the town with her."

:-:-:

He couldn't make up his mind as to the correct way to describe his feelings for the remainder of the evening; anxiety as she squeezed his hand when they entered O'Sheas, pride as she worked her way around their colleagues and friends or relief when she was finally back at his side.

:-:-:

As they made their way home she chatted non-stop, filling him in with snippets of Precinct gossip that he seemed to have missed out on over the weeks and admitting, "I had fun tonight Don, I'm glad you made me go."

Tightening his arm across her shoulder, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head, "Me too."

Suddenly, she pointed to an old haunt across the street, "Hey, want to take me dancing?"

"Now?" he queried, a little surprised at her suggestion.

"Yeah, I'm on a roll tonight; might as well go the whole way!"

All he wanted to do was take her home, have her to himself once more and take her to bed, but instead he nodded, "If that's what the lady wants to do; let's go."

Turning her around the dance floor, her body molded against his and her eyes sparkling, he thought that overwhelming happiness was perhaps the correct feeling; that the after all the pain and suffering of the summer, their world was finally righting itself once more.


	10. Chapter 10

_Oh yeah, all day and night time yours, leave me never_

_The only time I feel alright is by your side_

_Girl I want to be with you all of the time_

_All day and all of the night_

_The Kinks - All Day and All of the Night_

---

Three years had passed since the Tillery Diner shooting and their relationship had gone full circle; through the dark painful lows of that summer, then jubilant highs and finally back onto an even keel.

He remained in the homicide squad, well on track for promotion and still finding challenge and satisfaction, as well as frustration and sadness, in the New York crime scene but loving the Force more than ever.

Despite fears that it would be seen as an admission of defeat or an easy way out, she'd transferred to the cold case squad six months after returning to the Precinct. A week before the transfer, she'd laid some of her demons to rest by shooting-to-kill the armed hostage taker in an auction house siege; finally leaving her old squad, with not only the pre-existing support and respect of all but as a decorated Second Grade Detective. Cold case work filled her with enthusiasm that neither of them thought possible after the shooting and she grew to love the Force again, almost as much as he did.

Their apartments had been amalgamated into one; he'd never really returned to his after taking her home and it was made official when his lease ended, then they finally bought a place of their own.

They were both still stubborn and still scrapped over trivial matters; lost jewelry, empty milk cartons, loud music and differing views. She still beat him at Monopoly but managed to extend his French vocabulary to include a few useful phrases. He grew almost fond of flying but his culinary skills still remained at breakfast and take-out level.

Her independent streak was back, bacon remained one of the few foods that didn't grace her plate and her social calendar became full once again. Wild nights out to clubs and bars were a little less frequent, although he still sometimes found himself pouring rowdy women into the back of his car and nursing her tequila hangovers.

A future with hopefully more than the average 2.4 children, a house in the 'burbs, an SUV and maybe even a dog had been agreed upon. Flack and Angell families had more than accepted the respective party; Sam became a close friend as well as a future sister-in-law and the Angell men's poker night welcomed their new player, although there was always a good few word of warning, followed by a healthy dose of ribbing.

There was a ring on her finger but it wasn't wedding or even engagement; more of a 'we're together-going to grow old together-don't ask how the plans to get her down the aisle are going…' ring.

:-:-:

Mac and Stella seemed closer than ever, and although they denied they were anything more than good friends and professional colleagues, they didn't deny that they spent the majority of their time together.

Danny and Lindsay remained a dedicated husband and wife CSI team; successfully juggling shifts, crime, an apartment, a life and an energetic toddler. Although to every one's intrigue, it had been Danny who cut his hours and assumed the role of part-time house husband.

Sam still picked up a couple of shifts behind the bar in a club because she enjoyed it, but surprised everyone by settling into a steady job managing an upscale restaurant and going back to night school. And then further surprised everyone settling into a steady relationship with a tough ADA.

After dancing around each other, Matt Angell finally asked Ali to move to Boston and into his life. Although Jess was devastated to lose her to a different state, the fact that her best friend was soon to become her sister-in-law more than compensated.

:-:-:

All in all, life was good and he didn't think it could get any better.

:-:-:

"Why do you make us do this Jess?" he complained, squeezing onto the bench seat on the deck and resting his feet on the railing.

Without turning she patted his leg, "You know perfectly well why we do this..."

Rolling his eyes, he nodded, "I know, I know; you like 'the view'. Could you not like the view on day there's not hundreds of kids and it's not a hundred degrees though?!"

"Jeez Flack, you're such a whiner! We did what you wanted earlier, once the ferry starts there'll be a breeze and in any case, I though you liked kids?" She lifted her sunglasses to look at him, a little doubtfully.

Draping his arm across her shoulder he pulled her closer, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple and smiling, "I do like kids and I'll especially like _our_ kids. I just don't like kids on ferries." Sliding his eyes towards a group of bickering school children, he raised an eyebrow to emphasis the point.

Snorting, she settled against his body and enjoyed the refreshing breeze as the ferry began to pull away.

They watched as they always did, in silent awe as they glided along, but at times neither was sure if the other's fond smile was at the skyline or the memories the Circle Line held.

"So," she suddenly piped up, "if you're telling me that you don't like kids on ferries, does that mean that you're not going to take our kids on the ferry?"

Lazily he shook his head, "Nu-huh; that sounds the kind of thing their Mommy would do."

She turned to him again, lifting her sunglasses so they rested on the top her head. "The kind of thing their Mommy would do?! What kind of things would you to do with our little Flacks or Flackettes then?"

Snickering, he lifted his shades so their eyes met, "Flacks or Flackettes?! It sounds like a crappy band or something Jess." Stifling his laugh as she scowled, he laid a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose, "My Mom took me on the Circle Line when I was little, just us, and it was really fun; I guess I remember it as a nice Mommy type thing." As she smiled lovingly at him, his cheeks flushed and he yanked his sunglasses back over his eyes, "Christ! Why do we always have such crazy conversations on this boat Jess? Love, the rest of our lives, near death experiences, and now it's our future children?!"

Her heart ached a little as, like her, it wasn't often he spoke of his Mother. Smoothing a gentle hand over his chest, she returned the kiss before replacing her own sunglasses and watching the view once more; both sitting in contented silence until the boat turned and headed back to Seaport.

"What if our children weren't quite so…_future_ Don?"

Her soft words broke his idle thoughts and he nestled closer, dreamily grinning and tracing his finger around the ink on her wrist, "I think I'd like that Jess...a lot. How not 'quite so future' are you thinking?"

Stretching up she placed a palm on his cheek, rubbing her thumb along his cheekbone before whispering against his ear, "I'm thinking seven and a bit months not 'quite so future'..."


End file.
